


bring on all the pretenders (i'm not afraid)

by thelimitsofthe_sea



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Drabble, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2662817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelimitsofthe_sea/pseuds/thelimitsofthe_sea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They just couldn't give up hope, not this early.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bring on all the pretenders (i'm not afraid)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written by my sister after Spain's (disastrous) first game with the Netherlands this year in an effort to cheer me up. So we all know how that story ended, but hopefully you enjoy this little drabble.

As the defending FIFA champions gathered in the locker room, the atmosphere was decidedly subdued. Xabi glanced around at his teammates; their faces wore pinched, tight expressions or stared fixedly at the floor. He knew they were all still picturing the look on Del Bosque’s face when they’re trooped off the field. He’d not said a word, which was a very, very, very bad sign. The Spanish coach was dour at the best of times, but his ominous silence after today’s game let them exactly how badly they’d fucked up.

The team stood in silence, and Xabi realized they were waiting for someone to say something. He looked about, but it seemed no one was willing to step up and be that person. Usually, it was Iker’s job as team captain, but he was nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Casillas?” Xabi asked. Cesc shook his head.

“I think he’s trying to drown himself in the showers.” Soft sobbing sounds could be heard from that direction.

They all winced. You couldn’t really blame Iker; everybody had bad days and today had definitely been one for the books. Xabi knew though that this team had been through too much together to start doubting their goalie now. He’d led them to victory before and Xabi was sure he can do it again. They just couldn’t give up hope, not this early.

So someone was going have to say something, and it looked like going have to be him.

He cleared his throat loudly. “So…today was not so good.”

“You can say that again.” Pique called from where he was slumped against the wall.

“We got our asses kicked.” Busquets added.

Xabi nodded. “We did. We did and if we keep playing like this, we won’t stand a chance.”

The noise coming from the shower room had changed, becoming pathetic moans. His teammates turned towards him, faces bleak.

“That’s the honest truth.” he said. “So, now we have a choice; we can give up already, even though it’s just the first game.” He paused significantly before continuing. “Or we can pull ourselves together and prove once again why we were and are the best fucking football team in the world.”

He raised his voice as he said these last words and glared around the room intensely. Slowly, the others all meet his gaze, steely determination growing in their eyes.

“So, we’re not giving up, right?” he said.

Pique nodded. “The bastards haven’t beaten us yet.” His voice was rough from emotion.

“España.” Andrés said, raising his fist.

“España.” They all echoed.

Xabi felt a hand clap him on the shoulder. It was Iker.

“Thank you,” he told Xabi, who pulled him in for a hug. “I let you guys down today.”

“No way, man.” he said. “We’re in this, all of us, we’re in this together.”

“That’s what team means, idiot.” Cesc said to their captain and gave him a hug of his own. Out of the corner of his eye, Xabi saw Pique tearing up and made a mental note to tease him about it later. Then he realized something.

“Your hair is dry,” he said to Iker.

“Yeah?” Iker said, sounding confused. “I went for a bit of a walk. I needed to clear my head.” He and Andrés were looking at Xabi like he was crazy but Cesc had also put two and two together. “But then who’s in the …” he trailed off as another round of groans echoed from the showers. This time it was painfully obvious that these were _not_ sounds of despair.

Xabi finally realized who else was missing and buried his head in his hands. Of course, why was it always those two?

“Please, please tell me they’re not fucking in the shower room again.” he said.

Iker just shook his head. “I don’t want to lie to you, man.”

Xabi groaned. “This is the last straw.”

Cesc clapped his shoulder gently.

“Buck up, dude. We’ve got less than a month to go.” Xabi just whimpered.


End file.
